


Beat

by invisiblehabits



Category: BVCCI HAYNES, Jrock, SID (band)
Genre: Drug Use, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-30
Updated: 2010-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-01 10:12:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1043596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/invisiblehabits/pseuds/invisiblehabits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was a party animal of worst kind. But he had realised that he was a mean drunk and that he had to break the pattern that was forming. Unfortunately he’d realized too late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beat

_“Aki… Please, we need you.”_

The tone of voice broke Aki’s heart. The whole situation did. Because he didn’t need to be there or even hear Hitsugi say it to know what was going on. It’d happened before, so many times before. 

“Where are you?” 

_“Same as always.”_

“Alright, I’ll be there in twenty minutes or so. Hitsugi… Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.” 

The guitarist only snorted shortly and hung up on him. Yeah, stupid had been crossed a long time ago. Only a few months ago Aki wouldn’t have missed a night out for the life of him. He was a party animal of the worst kind. But Aki had realised from experience that he was a mean drunk and that he had to break the pattern that was forming. Unfortunately he’d realized too late. 

Sighing to himself Aki quickly changed sweats for comfy jeans and threw on a pair of sunglasses to hide the fact that he wore no makeup. He knew he was beautiful enough even without, people had told him so enough times to make him believe it himself. But sunglasses allowed him to hide more than the lack of cosmetics. 

Grabbing his keys from the counter he darted out of the apartment and down to his car. There was no way he was bringing Kenzo on the subway in this state. The Japanese paparazzi might be more discreet than the American one, but whoever happened to be riding the train this evening deserved better than the treatment the drummer would give them tonight. 

Twenty minutes later he pulled up in front of the club he’d gotten himself smashed at more times than he cared to remember. Hiroto greeted him outside the door. Aki hadn’t expected the young guitarist to be there. He rarely hung out with them anymore. It was sad that they should meet again like this. 

“Hey,” he greeted stiffly. 

“Hey.” 

Hiroto’s eyes held a slightly accusing touch to them, one Aki knew the younger didn’t mean to display. Unfortunately for both of them Hiroto had always been amazing at speaking with his eyes and horrible at hiding his feelings. 

“How bad is it?” 

“Bad. How did this happen Aki?” 

The dark haired bassist sighed heavily. He had no answer to give, least of all a good one. He’d tried and tried and tried, but in the end…in the end it was all his fault. But how was he ever supposed to tell that to Hiroto?

“I’ll bring him home, just show me where he’s at.” 

He sounded tired and he knew it. He was tired, drained even, but more on the mental and emotional level than physically so. Hiroto frowned at the statement and worry seeped its way into those damn expressive eyes. 

“Alone? You sure about that?” 

“Don’t worry, Pon. It’s not the first time.” 

The smile he attempted did not reach his eyes. Not that Hiroto could tell because of the sunglasses, but Aki bet the younger knew either way. They’d been close enough at one point for the blonde to know. 

“I heard you bedded Saga,” he continued in a gruff attempt to change the subject. “Well done.” 

“Not quite sure who bedded who, but yeah.” 

Hiroto let the obvious slide and held the door open for his friend. They walked inside and to the back where Hitsugi waited with a grim expression on his face. Aki would’ve expected to find them at the bar or perhaps on the dance floor. Instead Kenzo was sprawled out over a couch and giggling hysterically at whatever he was seeing, hearing or feeling. 

“He’s on your watch now,” Hitsugi said and grabbed his coat. “I’ve had enough.” 

They all knew, even Hiroto, that the guitarist was referring to more than just this night. Aki even wondered if Hitsugi would ever be back. They’d stay friends, he was sure of that, but he wasn’t so sure they’d go clubbing together for a long time to come. 

“Thanks, I’ll take it from here.” 

Hiroto darted his eyes back and forth between Hitsugi’s retreating back, Aki’s slouching shoulders and Kenzo’s all but passed out frame. 

“You want any help?” 

“It’s fine, Pon. Go home or find better company, whichever you prefer.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous. Here, I’ll help you get him out to the car.” 

Aki just nodded. He was, in fact, quite grateful for the help but he didn’t want Kenzo to lash out at the blonde. Hiroto brought out the protective side in him, like he did in everyone. And still, looking into the younger’s eyes Aki saw a new kind of strength in them. 

Together they got Kenzo off the couch and out the door. He only insulted one guard on the way and that was when Hiroto proved to be truly invaluable – his innocence could disarm anyone. As soon as they’d gotten the drummer into the backseat of Aki’s car he passed out completely. 

Hiroto tried to offer his help several more times but Aki denied it. He didn’t want anyone, especially not Hiroto, to see Kenzo like this more than necessary. They’d been lucky so far, only one outburst and a mild one at that. Giving the younger a strong hug, one that lasted a little bit longer than decency allowed, he bid him goodnight and got in the car. 

The drive felt longer than ever, despite taking twenty minutes tops. Kenzo slept the entire time and Aki didn’t dare turn on the radio in fear of waking him up. It was better if he slept. Much better. He even managed to carry the drummer into his own apartment without waking him up. It wasn’t until he put the younger down on his bed that Kenzo stirred slightly. 

“Where am I?” he slurred tiredly. 

“At my place.” 

“Why the fuck did you bring me here?” 

“It’s where I always bring you when you fuck yourself up.” 

Kenzo chuckled almost evilly. “No Aki, _you_ fucked me up.” 

And it was true. There was absolutely nothing Aki could say to contradict the statement because in the bottom of his heart he knew it was true. He’d fucked a lot of people over, but none worse than Kenzo. It’d never been his intention; he’d never _wanted_ to hurt the small drummer. But it didn’t change the fact that he had. 

Kenzo chuckled again. Once it’d been a goofy and infectious sound, a proof to the softer side the drummer used to hide beneath all the attitude. Now it just sounded tired and accusing. 

“I’m sorry…” 

“Whatever.” 

And just like that he passed out again. Aki watched him for several long moments. He wondered what he was supposed to do. Undress him? Leave him where he was? Call a rehab clinic and have the younger admitted against his will? But the last one was not really an option, he knew that. It would take for Kenzo to harm himself before anyone would admit him forcefully. Unfortunately shooting yourself full of drugs wasn’t considered harming yourself. 

The bassist sighed and went to lie down on the couch. His bed was big enough for two people to sleep in, but he knew for a fact that Kenzo would not take it lightly if he woke up next to Aki. So he’d sleep on the couch and then, when they woke up, he’d deal with whatever Kenzo would throw at him. Because he would throw something at him, Aki knew that much. 

\- - -

He startled awake at the sound of something crashing to the floor. It took him a second to realize the sound came from the bathroom and he rushed over there. The door was locked. 

“Kenzo? Kenzo!” 

“Go away…” 

It was hardly more than a broken whisper and Aki felt his heart contract painfully. 

“Kenzo, open the door…” 

The only respond he got was a sob. Then another one. And another and another and another. He hated the sound of Kenzo crying. The drummer only ever cried when coming down from a high and his body was a burning mess. When all he wanted was another fix and he –for a brief moment– knew just how deep in trouble he really was. 

“Go away. You’re the last person I want to see right now…”

Aki leaned his head against the door. “Kenzo…” 

“No! Go away!” 

There was a ruffled sound and Aki assumed the drummer had stood up. Seconds later he heard the unmistakable sound of a mirror shattering and Kenzo groaned out in pain. 

“Kenzo!” He slammed his hand against the door. “Kenzo, for fuck’s sake let me in!” 

“No…” There was a thump as Kenzo slid down to the floor again. “Go away Aki. This is all your fault…” 

Aki wanted to cry, but tears would get him nowhere here. But the words burned deep inside his chest, stung his conscience with their truth. 

“Damn it Kenzo, just open the fucking door!” 

To his utter surprise the lock clicked and opened. For a moment he was too stunned to do anything about it. It wasn’t like the drummer to actually obey his orders, requests, call them whatever you wanted. Kenzo was defiant to the core, always had been, and in this condition he never did as he was told. 

However, as soon as Aki opened the door it was quite clear why the drummer had gone against his nature. The bathroom was a mess. An educated guess said that Kenzo had thrown the mobile shelf to the floor, meaning the entire floor was littered with Aki’s beauty products and makeup. He’d also, just as Aki had suspected, punched his fist into the mirror. A piece of it seemed to have cut him across the back on the hand, because he was bleeding profusely. 

“Shit!” 

Aki grabbed a towel and pressed it against the cut but Kenzo forcefully retracted his hand. 

“Don’t touch me!” 

“Don’t be stupid, you need help!” 

He grabbed the drummer’s wrist. Almost immediately Kenzo lashed out and gave him a backhanded slap across the face. 

“Get away from me!” 

Aki was too stunned to do anything as Kenzo tried to move away from him. Scrambling over the floor he put a hand in the broken mirror and gasped as a piece cut into his palm as well. 

“Fuck.” 

Both of them uttered it simultaneously. Kenzo cradled the hand to his chest and continued to shy away whenever Aki tried to touch him. The drummer’s face was streaked with tears and his eyes so red you would’ve suspected he hadn’t slept for weeks. Maybe he hadn’t, Aki didn’t know. But he suspected it was because of entirely different reasons. 

“Let me help you. Please Kenzo.” 

His own tears were threatening to spill over and he slumped back against the door frame when Kenzo shook his head. 

“I don’t need your help. Not _your_ help.” 

There was so much anger in the black eyes that looked up at him. Black rimmed in red. Aki closed his eyes to escape it but it only made even more menacing images flash before them. 

“You remember it too, don’t you?” Kenzo hissed. “The night you asked for my help.” 

\- - -

_All he could see was the alcohol pouring down the drain._

_“What the fuck are you doing?!”_

_Kenzo looked up but didn’t stop._

_“I’m helping you, like you asked me too.”_

_Aki lashed out against him. Against the bottle in his hand._

_“Give me that!”_

\- - -

The first sob rolled over his pierced lips. Aki remembered, he remembered it all too well. Eight months, three weeks and five days ago. He didn’t count hours, wasn’t sure what hour it’d been. If you were picky it might only be four days too, because he’d been too drunk to know the time. 

“You asked for my help,” Kenzo continued in a hissed whisper. “I tried to help you and you…” 

“Don’t say it, please.” 

Another one of those damn chuckles. The blood kept trickling down Kenzo’s wrist and soaking into his sleeve, but right now he seemed to have forgotten all about it. 

“Why not? Does it hurt to remember it? Well guess what Aki, it hurt to receive it as well!” 

\- - -

_“Aki. Aki stop!”_

_He threw the smaller man to the floor easily. The alcohol in his veins made him stronger than he was. Kenzo tried to get up but he punched him in the face. Hard._

_“Why the fuck did you throw it all away?!”_

_There were several empty bottles littering the sink and he grabbed the closet one. Jack Daniels, true rock star destruction. Without thinking he threw it to the wall, barely missing the window._

_“You asked for my help.”_

_“How the fuck is this going to help me?!”_

_“Aki, you’re an alco–“_

_He didn’t have a chance to finish before the bassist pounced on him._

_“Shut up! Shut the fuck up!”_

\- - -

Tears were trickling down Aki’s face now. Silent, regretful tears that would never reach through to Kenzo. He wasn’t sure if he deserved the forgiveness he’d been seeking ever since that night, but he would never stop working for it. If nothing else he owed the drummer to keep trying. 

Unlike him Kenzo’s tears had dried up again. His were tears of pain and regret for what he’d become, shed only when the pain in his veins became unbearable. Now he had something different to focus on, someone else to blame. And, for once, it was the right person. Perhaps he should’ve cried as he was looking at Aki, remembering what Aki did to him, but he couldn’t. Or wouldn’t, it was hard to tell them apart lately. 

“You were my best friend, Aki…” 

The voice was laced with poison and accusations and cut straight at the bassist’s heart. He slowly opened his own black eyes and tried to face Kenzo. 

“You were my best friend and you…” 

“Please Kenzo…” 

“I tried to help you and you…” 

There was nothing he could say or do to stop the words this time. For months they had both shied away from the ugly truth, aware of it but never uttering it. Aki hid his face in his hands and cried harder but still as silently. 

\- - -

_He effortlessly pinned Kenzo to the floor, using every ounce of strength and length he had on the other. Kenzo fought him but he was not mad with drunken rage and an alcoholic’s loss of his toxin. Aki was. He wanted to punish and get even, hurt his so-called friend as deeply as he had been hurt._

_“Get off me!”_

_“Fuck no! I’m going to fucking get you, you son of a bitch!”_

_Several more punches were delivered, from both of them. But Aki had the upper hand and he revelled in the fear that slowly seeped into Kenzo’s eyes as he started ripping at clothes._

_“Aki… Aki stop it. For fuck’s sake, get off of me!”_

_“No. I’m sick and tired of you telling me what to do! Of everyone judging me!”_

_He tore Kenzo’s jeans open and flipped him around. After that there were no more words, only pained screams._

\- - -

“You raped me…” 

For the first time in almost nine months the ugly truth had been fully thrown out in the air. Aki felt physically sick and contemplated trying to throw up in the toilet. But he didn’t. He wasn’t the one who should feel sick after all, was he? He wasn’t the victim here. 

“You raped me, Aki…” 

Kenzo might as well have stabbed him with a knife for how he said those words. And yet Aki knew he deserved them. The drummer had been gone when he first woke up following that night. Apparently he’d passed out on the bathroom floor and it took several hours for him to realize and remember what had actually happened through the pounding hangover. But it came back, slowly, aided on by the shattered glass in the kitchen and the blood on the hallway floor. 

At first he didn’t want to believe it, couldn’t imagine himself capable of such a deed. But he knew he was a mean drunk, vicious even, and that it had lost him great things already. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Kenzo…” 

He leaned his head back against the door frame and avoided looking at his once best friend. Aki still considered Kenzo his best friend, but he didn’t blame the drummer for not sharing those feelings. 

“I know nothing I say can ever make up for what I did. But I quit drinking after that night. I never want to hurt you, or anyone else, like that again…” 

“Ironic, isn’t it. I tried helping you out of an addiction and got one myself.” 

Aki swallowed the bile that rose in his throat at those words. More truths, more ugly disgusting truths that he didn’t want to hear or acknowledge but could never escape. He had quit drinking after what he did, out of fear of ever repeating the act. But Kenzo, Kenzo had sought an escape from the memories and the mental pain. At first he’d gotten drunk, mindlessly drunk every night of the week. But when that wasn’t enough he turned to drugs. Aki didn’t know what the younger was using and he didn’t care. All he needed to know was that Kenzo was slowly ruining his life and it was his fault. 

“Why didn’t you report me to the police?” 

It was a question he’d asked himself many times. The first few days he’d been expecting the police to show up outside his door any minute, because surely Kenzo wouldn’t let something like that pass by unnoticed. Later on he’d come to wish it’d happened. Maybe the drummer would not be in the state he currently was if he’d gotten some kind of legal justice for what happened. 

Kenzo snorted and flexed his hand with a hiss. 

“I don’t even fucking know. I fucking should have…” 

He looked up and their eyes met. There was still so much anger and resentment in Kenzo’s black ones, but Aki realized that this was perhaps the most they’d spoken in months. In one way he was, of course, glad that Kenzo had not pressed charges against him; it would’ve ruined him and his career had that happened. But at the same time… Looking at Kenzo now Aki was willing to give up everything he was if it meant the drummer would be better off. 

“Will you let me have a look at your hand?” 

For some reason he was whispering, but it seemed right to do so. Kenzo didn’t reply with more than a shrug, but he didn’t shy away when Aki approached him this time. Carefully he cleaned the two cuts on the drummer’s hand, cuts that weren’t really all that deep but he assumed the drugs didn’t exactly help with the clotting. As Aki wrapped some gauze around the wounds he felt rather than heard a chuckle go through the other’s body. 

“Fucking hell…” 

“What’s wrong?” 

“I’m wrong. I’m completely fucked up.” 

Kenzo sounded so tired when he spoke, but he retracted his hand and looked the bandages over. It seemed to please him because he tried to stand up and even let Aki aid him as his knees almost gave out underneath him. 

“You should rest.” 

Aki was beginning to hate the chuckles of various kinds leaving Kenzo’s lips. 

“If you’re worried about the shaking, sleeping won’t help with that. And since I assume you don’t have any cocaine lying around the house, I at least want a smoke.” 

They headed for the kitchen together. Kenzo shook off the bassist’s touch as soon as he’d made sure he could walk on his own and Aki let him. The drummer’s cigarettes had gotten lost at the pub and he groaned in dislike at the offered Marlboro Gold handed to him. For perhaps the first time that evening it was Aki’s turn to chuckle. Marlboro Gold were light cigarettes, not exactly the kind Kenzo preferred himself. Still, it didn’t stop him from taking it and lighting it up immediately. 

The drummer’s hands were shaking horribly as he brought the cigarette to his mouth. Aki watched him as he lit up a cigarette of his own and wondered what he could possibly do to help. He wanted to help, had to help somehow. There was no way he could sit by and let Kenzo destroy himself the way Aki had nearly destroyed himself. 

“How much are you using, Zo?” 

It was a dangerous question and he knew it. But he needed to know…what? If Kenzo considered his addiction a problem or was it just morbid curiosity? 

“Too much.” 

Aki arched a worried brow and kept watching his shaking friend until Kenzo sighed and saw it fit to elaborate. He didn’t owe Aki anything, they both knew and saw it that way. But the bassist was the only one who cared, even Kenzo recognised that. 

“I still function, as you can see. It just…hurts.” 

He was, of course, talking about the times when he didn’t have drugs fresh in his system. No substance user functioned when they were high or drunk, they both knew that much. 

“Do Aoi and the other’s know?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Do they know…why?” 

“No.” 

“Does anyone–“ 

“No.” 

Aki was more ashamed than anything about the relief that flooded his veins. He didn’t want to be relived by the fact that Kenzo had carried the burden all alone, because the drummer wasn’t exactly the type to see a shrink. But he didn’t want to be known as a rapist either, as selfish as it might sound. 

“So you’ve never…spoken about it?” 

“I haven’t even admitted it happened until tonight…” 

Now that was something of a shock. Perhaps it shouldn’t have been, but Aki had realised what happened and had reluctantly accepted the fact that he had raped his best friend. He would never forgive himself, never! But accepting was not the same as forgiving. 

“Why…me?” 

It didn’t make sense to him that Kenzo would choose him of all people to talk to. He was, after all, the one who had done it. Apparently the drummer found the question more amusing than funny though for he chuckled tiredly again. 

“That’s a good fucking question,” He took a deep pull on the cigarette and put it out only to immediately light up a second. “I guess…you’re still my best friend. Despite everything.” 

The bassist felt fresh tears well up in his eyes at those words and looked away. 

“I don’t deserve being your best friend.” 

“Damn right you don’t. But you’re the only one who puts up with me.” 

There wasn’t much he could say in reply to that. Of course he put up with Kenzo even when he was at his worst. It was his fault to begin with, remember? Aki followed the example of lighting up a fresh smoke and took a few deep inhales before attempting to respond. 

“I think I owe you as much.” 

“You owe me a hell of a lot more than that…” 

Something in the way he said it made Aki look up. He didn’t know what it was, couldn’t quite pinpoint it. But during their entire conversation Kenzo had seemed and sounded indifferent. That line, it reminded Aki of who the drummer used to be. Though spoken in a low voice, hardly more than a whisper really, it was intense in the way only Kenzo could’ve made it. 

“What do you want Kenzo? Please, I’ll do anything!” 

He meant it. Aki was willing to do anything to help his best friend, to try and make things a fraction better than they were. 

“I’ll turn myself in if you want, confess to everything. I can go to the media and tell them who I really am, a drunk and a fucking rapist! Anything. If there’s anything I can do to make you feel better, then please tell me.” 

Kenzo was quiet for a long time. He finished his cigarette and lit up a third one, taking several drags before even looking at the older. When he did there was determination swimming in his black eyes. They almost held a dangerous streak to them and Aki knew for a fact that most people wouldn’t have withstood the intensity of that look. 

“I want to hurt you.” 

It would’ve sounded like a joke if not for how he said it. With his eyes more than his words. They were dead serious as they stared Aki down through the smoke curling from the ends of their cigarettes. Aki felt his heart pound heavily in his chest. He had not expected that. Maybe he should’ve, in some twisted way it made sense, but he hadn’t. 

Could he do it? Could he deliberately let Kenzo hurt him in order to make the drummer feel better? He took several long drags on his cigarette without answering. So many in fact that it run out and the heated filter burnt his fingers. Cursing under his breath he stubbed it out in the ashtray. He swallowed hard a looked up to meet Kenzo’s eyes again. 

“Do it.” 

The whispered words could barely be heard but Kenzo reacted to them nonetheless. Without a word he stubbed his own cigarette and stood up. He walked around the table and stood before Aki. This was where it had all begun. It was in here Kenzo had poured the alcohol down the drain that had caused Aki to freak out so badly. It was almost fitting that he would get some kind of retribution here as well. 

The first punch hit Aki’s cheek. If he’d expected the drummer to start out easy he’d been sorely mistaken. Kenzo put everything he had behind that punch and despite his small frame that was quite a lot. He was a drummer after all. 

Aki gasped in shock and pain as his head snapped to the side under the force. He’d been in his fair share of fights over the years, but mostly he’d been so drunk he hardly reacted to the pain. This time there was nothing to dull the pain. Kenzo’s fist hit him straight in the cheekbone and sent a spike of pain echoing through his head. It hurt, it bloody hurt! But Aki only shook his head slightly and looked back up at the younger. Waiting for the next blow. Accepting that it was to come. 

And it came. To almost the exact same spot as the first one. The pain blossomed even sharper but Kenzo didn’t give him time to contemplate it before snapping his head to the other side with a third blow. Aki bit his lip hard not to cry out. He didn’t know if Kenzo wanted him to do that or not. Before he had chance to ask however, calloused fingers grabbed his chin and brought him face to face with the drummer again. Aki felt a shiver run down his spine at the look in Kenzo’s eyes just before the fourth blow hit him straight in the mouth. 

That blow brought him to the ground. With his piercings it hurt even worse than it should and he couldn’t balance his weight as he tried to move away from the pain. Ungracefully he fell to the floor and –ironically– hurt his wrist as he tried to catch himself. Aki tasted blood in his mouth and wasn’t sure if he’d bitten himself or if one of his piercings had ripped slightly under the force. He didn’t have time to figure it out. Kenzo kicked him in the gut and he instinctively curled up on the floor with a groan. 

“Are you cowering already?! You’ve only taken a few simple blows!” 

Kenzo wrapped his fingers in Aki’s hair and pulled the older’s head back sharply. Their eyes met briefly and Aki wondered if the fear he was beginning to feel was showing in his eyes yet. He didn’t regret his decision to let Kenzo hurt him, he honestly didn’t. The fear he felt was more on instinct. Someone was beating him and it took everything he had not to try and run away from it. 

“Do you think this pain is anything compared to what you gave me?!” 

He only had time to shake his head for a second before Kenzo’s fist connected with his right eye. The skin beneath his eye split open and he felt warm blood trickle down his cheek. It stung like hell and he whimpered slightly. The drummer didn’t seem to care, if anything he seemed to revel in the sound of pain and discomfort. It was a good thing because Aki doubted he would be able to contain the sounds much longer if Kenzo kept this up. 

The drummer let go of his hair so suddenly he almost hit his head on the floor. Instead the rush of pain came from catching himself on the injured wrist again. It was quickly overridden by the pain that came from Kenzo kicking him hard in the thigh though. It actually drew the first real cry from the bassist’s lips. The sound seemed to be the catalyst for after that the blows began to rain down heavily. Aki quickly lost count of them. All he knew was that his body was bleeding and screaming out in pain. 

He didn’t even realise he was crying until the blows stopped. He was curled up on the floor and there was not one part of his body that didn’t hurt. His right eye was hard to open due to swelling, blood continuously trickled into his mouth and he’d taken kicks to the stomach, back and thighs alike. There was at least one bleeding gash on his face, probably more, and the salty tears running freely from his eyes mixed with the blood in a very unpleasant way. Aki had been in fights before, but this…this was flat out abuse. 

It took a while before he realised that the sobs echoing through the kitchen were not his own. He was crying yes, but the tears were quietly falling from his eyes and no sobs wracked his bruised body. Was Kenzo crying? It had to be the drummer; he was the only other person in the room. Over the past months Aki had heard the other cry many times but never as heartbreakingly as now. 

He tried to turn his head to look up at the other but a stab of pain had him gasping and fresh tears mixing with the blood on his cheeks. A sickening thump let him know that Kenzo had dropped to the floor even before he opened his eyes again. Indeed, the drummer was kneeling before him on the floor and reached out a hand towards him. Aki reacted instinctively as he shied away from the touch. He didn’t mean to do it but his body acted on its own. Kenzo saw and he retracted his hand. 

“Do you hate me now?” 

He sounded so small and broken Aki ignored the throbbing in his body and slowly pushed himself up into a semi-sitting position. Even if his body was currently scared of the drummer, his mind was not. 

“Never.” 

Bracing himself on his uninjured wrist Aki reached out and carefully cupped Kenzo’s cheek. There was blood on his fingers too he noted. And on the floor. It seemed like he was pretty messed up.

Kenzo placed his own hand on top of the bassist’s and cried harder. The desperate sobs tore at Aki’s heart and he leaned forward, connecting their foreheads as his own tears kept falling. Despite the pain it felt oddly good to be close to Kenzo again. He hadn’t realised how much he’d actually missed his best friend. He could never undo what had happened, but he hoped against hope that they could be friends again. Like they’d once been. He had no right to ask for such a thing, he knew that, but hope was rarely logical. 

The drummer leaned back slightly and brought his calloused hands to Aki’s face. Carefully he wiped at the blood and tears, almost as if he was inspecting his work. One might’ve thought there would be shame in his eyes but there was none. Kenzo didn’t look happier, but there was no anger or resentment in his eyes either. 

“Did it help?” 

An honest question without any trace of accusations. 

“Yes. No. Maybe…” 

There was no more shame in Kenzo’s voice than in his eyes. He didn’t regret what he had just done and that made Aki even more convinced that he had been right in allowing it. Physical pain was transitory; it was the mental kind Kenzo carried around that was hard to get rid of. If this had helped, in any way, it was more than worth a few days of discomfort. 

“Help me get up?” 

He was shaking even worse than Kenzo as the drummer helped him to get back on his feet and guided him back to his seat. He even helped him light up a smoke before he took a seat on the edge of the table right in front of Aki. It felt oddly nice to have the drummer so close even after what had just happened. Or perhaps it was because of what had just happened that Aki wanted him close. If they didn’t establish something now he wasn’t sure if they’d ever have anything again. 

“Could you get me a drink?” 

“A drink?!” 

The bassist rolled his eyes.

“As in water or a soda or something. My throat feels like it’s been sandpapered or something.” 

Truth be told he would kill for a _real_ drink. But he was a recovering alcoholic and the last thing he wanted was to go back to the state that had started this whole mess. Kenzo nodded in understanding and went to the sink. The cigarette he’d lit up for himself dangled from his lips as he poured a glass of water but he didn’t seem the slightest bit troubled by the smoke curling around his face. 

Handing the glass to Aki he pulled a chair around the table and took a seat on that in front of the bassist. They sat in silence for a long time and nearly emptied Aki’s cigarette stash entirely. It felt…nice. That thought almost made Aki laugh. How’s that for freaks? He had raped Kenzo and Kenzo had just beaten the shit out of him, but it felt nice just sitting together and enjoying each other’s company. 

“We should get you cleaned up.” 

_We_ , the word stuck in Aki’s mind. It sounded promising. To him at least. 

“I’m not sure I can walk to the bathroom.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

Kenzo ignored the slight shaking that lingered in his body and got up, still with a cigarette dangling from his lips. Aki watched him head for the bathroom and soon enough he returned carrying the first aid kit. Carefully the drummer began cleaning the wounds he’d made with first water and then antiseptics. Finally he put medical tape on the gashes that required it, namely the ones on Aki’s face. Then he lit up another cigarette and looked at the pile of bloodied tissues and antiseptics soaked cotton balls. 

“Can I stay here tonight?” 

It was almost morning but it didn’t matter. Aki was just relieved Kenzo didn’t apologise. All of this somehow would’ve been for nothing if he apologised. 

“Of course. I think…I might need some help in the morning, to be honest.” 

Kenzo smiled then. It was the first real smile Aki had seen on the drummer’s face in over eight months. Had he not been exhausted and afraid of upsetting the freshly cleaned wounds he could’ve cried. 

“Actually, I might need some help right now…”

The drummed nodded in understanding and held up his cigarette. It was one of those moments of wordless communication between smokers. ‘One minute, I just want to finish this.’ Aki didn’t mind, he wanted to finish his own as well. 

Eventually they stubbed their cigarettes out in the ashtray and the bassist swallowed down the last of his water. Kenzo helped him get to his feet and supported him as best he could with the height difference. Aki was glad to notice the drummer didn’t avoid his touch at the moment. He was also surprised to find they were heading for the bedroom. It didn’t seem right to let Kenzo sleep on the couch. Not when he was the guest. But Kenzo lead him into the bedroom and set him down on the bed. 

“Can you get undressed on your own?” 

“Yeah.” 

It hurt to raise his arms over his head but Aki managed to pull his shirt off without help. The pants were easier and he happily let his body fall down on the sheets. There were already bruises forming on his thighs and he was fairly certain the same went for his back. He felt beat, completely and utterly beat, and all he wanted to do was sleep. 

A rustle caught his attention and he turned his head just in time to see Kenzo shed his shirt. He was all flawless skin and confident beauty, even now. The bassist furrowed his brows as the drummer went for his pants as well. Without a word the smaller man pulled the covers aside and slipped beneath them. 

“Touch me and I’ll break every bone in that pretty little face of yours.” 

With those words he turned his back on Aki and pulled the covers up to his nose. The bassist didn’t know what to think about it all. The bed was more than big enough for two people to sleep in it without touching but he had not expected Kenzo to be willing to share. Still, it made sense that both of them would get a few hours of decent sleep after everything that happened. Lying down he pulled the covers over himself and allowed his body to relax and find sleep, making sure to keep as far to his side of the bed as possible. 

\- - -

Aki didn’t know what caused him to wake up a few hours later. It took him a moment to realise that he was no longer lying on the edge of the bed but rather in the middle of it. And that Kenzo was too. They were, in fact, cuddle up right next to each other. Aki even had his arms wrapped around the drummer. 

“I thought I told you not to touch me.” 

But Kenzo didn’t try to move, not until Aki nodded his head almost apologetically and removed his arms. The action sent a spike of pent up pain through his limbs and he hissed badly. But the drummer ignored him in favour of getting out of bed. He didn’t get farther than the edge of it though. Sitting with his back against the bassist he looked smaller than ever. Aki knew him well enough to almost see the wheels turn inside his head as he thought. But unlike how it used to be he had no idea whatsoever as to what was going on inside Kenzo’s head. 

“You know the irony of it all?” 

“What?” 

“I wanted you to do that for years. I wanted _you_ for years.” 

Aki felt himself go pale. 

“You’re not saying…” 

Kenzo didn’t reply, but the look he threw over his shoulder spoke volumes. The drummer had always had expressive eyes. Almost like Hiroto’s, though never as innocent or vulnerable as the guitarist’s. Aki could read hurt and betrayal and a streak of something unbelievable in the black eyes meeting his. The guilt he was already feeling increased tenfold right there.

“Told you I’m fucked up.” 

Ignoring the ache in his body, and god did it hurt to move, Aki moved across the bed until he could rest a hand on the drummer’s shoulder. Kenzo shifted but didn’t pull away. His hands were fidgeting in a way that told Aki he wanted a cigarette though, at the very least. What Kenzo, or rather his body, really wanted was probably something a lot stronger but nicotine was the best he had to offer. 

“Here.” 

He kept cigarettes on his nightstand for obvious reasons. Aki was the kind to crave an after-sex cigarette and it was easier to not have to get out of bed to get one. Now he handed the pack and a lighter to Kenzo who happily lit one up. Neither of them cared that the drummer flicked the ash onto the hardwood floor after he took a few drags. Heck, Aki thought, if there were marks he could put in a rug or have the fucking floor remade. 

“I’m sorry…”

“Shut up, it doesn’t change anything.” 

And it didn’t. He couldn’t change the past, no matter how hard he tried or how much he wanted to. But he could shape the future, or so he hoped because he did _not_ want to see Kenzo continue down this path. 

“Would you kill me if I asked you to let me help you?” 

Kenzo chuckled. 

“I fucking should.” 

“Is that a no then?” 

“I don’t know what the fuck it is! I don’t know anything anymore.” 

He was letting his guard down and it did not go unnoticed by the bassist. Kenzo had always had a wall of impossible pride surrounding him, but Aki was one of the few people he’d allowed himself to relax around. That he would do so now, however, was beyond believable. That he would consider Aki his best friend, after everything that had happened, seemed nothing short of wrong. 

The drummer finished his smoke without another word. He got up and stubbed it out in a flower pot. Aki expected him to leave then, he didn’t want him to but it seemed like the logical thing. He was surprised Kenzo had wanted to stay the night, even more so that he’d agreed to sleep in the same bed. 

“Why?” The question slipped out before he realised what he was saying. “Why are you still here?” 

“You want me to leave?” 

“No! No, I just… I don’t understand. Why are you letting me, _me_ , in again? I…don’t deserve it.” 

Kenzo sighed and shook his head with a tired smile. Aki didn’t deserve it; the bassist was damn right about that. But…

“I have no one else.” 

He didn’t turn back to face the other. 

“You were my best friend, the only one I trusted. When I needed comfort I came to you. Then you hurt me…” 

He didn’t look at Aki as he grabbed the cigarettes and lit up another one. 

“Now everything is just fucked up. No one can stand being around me anymore, meaning if I don’t go to you I’m on my own. I could get Pon to care–“ 

“Don’t you dare…” 

Kenzo chuckled. 

“Don’t worry, I want to protect him as much as you do. Unfortunately, that leaves only you.” 

Aki just looked at the drummer in stunned silence. It all made sense and at the same time it was ludicrous! Kenzo needed someone to talk to, someone who wasn’t involved. He deserved someone else! 

“And the worst part… I only want you.” 

The bassist swallowed thickly. Suddenly there was a huge lump in his throat and a new ache in his chest. A shiver went through Kenzo’s body and Aki didn’t know if he was trying to hold back laughter or tears. Maybe both. 

“Just thinking of you makes me angry. I want to _hurt_ you! And at the same time…”

He did chuckle then, a despondent sound if Aki ever heard one. Kenzo took a final drag from his cigarette and killed it like he had the other one. Finally he turned towards the bassist, even if he still avoided eye contact. 

“At the same time I just want to fucking hold you.” 

When the drummer looked up and their eyes met Aki could see it. It was right there where it shouldn’t be. And he felt something stir inside his own chest. Things he’d only begun to glimpse himself before it all drowned in too much alcohol and eventually shattered under the pressure of too much guilt. How could Kenzo hold it in his eyes now? 

The shorter man took a few strides and got back on the bed. He pushed Aki down and ignored the pained gasp as he straddled bruised thighs. Aki tried to push him off because it _hurt_ but Kenzo pinned his wrist above his head and he didn’t try to fight. Just moving shot spikes of pain through his limbs and even though he was normally both taller and stronger than Kenzo he was no match for him this morning.

“Are you scared?” 

He moved further up Aki’s body and the bassist was thankful to have the pressure on his waist rather than his thighs, even if the former also hurt slightly. He breathed a sigh of relief and shook his head in the negative. 

“I was.”

Every move Kenzo did was slow and calculated; the way he squeezed Aki’s wrists painfully hard and leaned down slowly with an intimidating glow in his eyes. But the way he crushed his lips against the bassist’s was hard, rushed and bruising. Meant to hurt as much as to try and figure things out, make sense of what didn’t make any sense at all. 

Aki did his best to respond. He wanted to for Kenzo’s sake and at the same time he didn’t know what would be best for the drummer. Was it better to play along and give Kenzo what he wanted even when he didn’t seem to know what that was? Or was it better to pull back and…and what? Kenzo was right, everything really was fucked up. 

“I’m going to fuck you.” 

It was hissed against his lips seconds before Kenzo tugged, none too gently, at Aki’s lower lip. The bassist didn’t have a lip ring anymore, but even a stud could hurt if the hole got ripped slightly. It didn’t help that he gasped in surprise and pulled his head back slightly at the action. 

“Scared yet?” 

“No.” 

He spread his legs to prove his point, giving the drummer room to settle between naked thighs should he want to. The truth was his offer intrigued Aki. They were fucked up, had been even before that night. Maybe fucking tonight would get some things out of the way, making it possible for them to get to the problems behind and start fixing things for real. 

“No more running.” 

“I’m not running.”

“Yes you are.” 

And he was. Kenzo knew he was. He just hated admitting it. So he slammed their lips together again to shut the bassist up, to stop him from talking and uttering ugly truths. Aki responded more this time, kissed back without trying to struggle for dominance. He was not usually one to submit so easily, but he didn’t have it in him to put up a fight today. 

Kenzo pushed the older down into the mattress. It felt good to kiss Aki like this, better than he cared to admit. He shouldn’t want this, he knew he shouldn’t. But he’d wanted the bassist for _years_ and this was the first time he’d ever had him. The rape didn’t count. Kenzo had had nothing to say that night and he knew that Aki had barely been aware of what he was doing. This was different, tonight he was in control. 

Once he knew the bassist wouldn’t make a run for it Kenzo released Aki’s wrists and tugged off the older’s boxers, revelling in the fact that Aki didn’t even try to stop him or cover himself up. He knew he couldn’t control Aki, not like Aki could control him due to sheer size, and so he didn’t try. 

“Turn over.” 

It was a command, not a request. Aki hesitated momentary but did as told and bit back the groan as he rolled over onto his stomach. He heard Kenzo slide off his own boxers and then there was an erection rubbing against his rear. The drummer chuckled at the way Aki froze and his breath hitched slightly. 

“Scared yet? I could just take you like this, raw and unprepped…” 

“Would serve me right…” 

Aki was kind of proud of how his voice only shook a little saying that. He didn’t want to be fucked without preparation. But he didn’t think he could deny Kenzo even that if the drummer asked him for it. He couldn’t deny Kenzo anything these days – his guilt just wouldn’t allow it. 

“Lucky for you…” Kenzo removed himself from his back and from the corner of his eye Aki saw him grab the lube off the nightstand. “I’m not as big of a jerk as you were.”

The barb stung. They both knew Aki was not the kind of selfish lover Kenzo made him out to be just then. He’d been drunk out of his mind and blinded by rage when he made _one_ mistake he would never forgive himself for. Normally he took good care of his lovers. At least he used to before alcohol started clouding his senses and became the only thing he cared about. 

Kenzo settled between Aki’s spread thighs and the bassist felt cold slick fingers prodding at his entrance. Two were shoved in at once and with how tensed he’d been before, it _hurt_. His body wanted to shy away from it, escape and save itself, but he forced it to stay put and endure. It didn’t take long before the fingers retracted and were replaced to something else, something bigger that hurt even more and Aki couldn’t hold back a whimper as Kenzo pushed all the way inside in one go. 

“Does it hurt that bad Aki?”

The words were hissed against his ear as Kenzo leaned down over his back, rested his body weight on Aki’s bruised and aching body. 

“Yes…” 

“Good.” 

He pulled back slightly. Aki felt the bed dip on both sides of him as Kenzo rested his weight on his arms. Then he began to thrust, hard and relentless. Aki tried but he couldn’t hold back cries of pain. It hurt, more than sex had ever hurt before. He was too tense, too scared even though he didn’t want to admit it, and there hadn’t been nearly enough preparation for the situation. 

Kenzo kept it up for a good while, thrusting hard and blocking out the bassist’s pained sounds. He wanted to enjoy them, wanted to think that this was justified and that he was doing nothing wrong. But every pained moan and tearful gasp tore at his heart. He cared too much; it became more and more evident with every push of his hips. 

In the end he couldn’t take it. He pulled out and retracted from Aki’s body altogether. He felt like crying but that was more than he could allow himself to do. Kenzo was tired of being the victim, tired of being the one always hurting. All he wanted to do was move on but he didn’t know how. 

“Kenzo…” 

Pushing all the ache in his muscles aside, though god knows how he managed to, Aki turned around and crawled over to the drummer. 

“Kenzo, it’s okay.” 

“No, it’s not fucking okay! It’s fucked up. I’m fucked up! I can’t even hurt you like you hurt me!” 

He dried the treacherous wetness from his cheeks and looked up at Aki’s face. Even with the shadow of pain and tiredness and bruising lingering over it the bassist was gorgeous. And that hurt too. 

“I want to hate you…” 

It was the most pained whisper Aki had ever heard and it tore at his heart. 

“But you don’t.” 

“No, I don’t…” 

He didn’t need to say more. Just with the way he said it, it was obvious what he _didn’t_ say. It was just hard to believe that Kenzo would be saying that. That he would be feeling _that_. 

“Do you want me, Kenzo?”

Aki was almost afraid to ask the question. He didn’t know what the drummer would say, how he would react. But he needed to know what to do next. There was no way he was repeating past mistakes. 

“Yes…” Kenzo chuckled unbelievingly. “How fucked up is that?” 

“Then take me.” 

And Kenzo did. Their eyes locked for a minute, two, three. Then Kenzo moved. He pushed Aki back down on the bed, on his back this time, and kissed him. It was still hard, almost bruising, but the bassist was no longer afraid. He spread his legs and allowed Kenzo to settle back between them before he wrapped them around the drummer’s waist as best he could.

“Take me properly. I don’t mind hard, just…” 

He was shut up by a fierce kiss and Kenzo pushed inside again. It hurt, but not like before. This time he stopped once he was sheeted, gave Aki time to adjust and comprehend. Eventually it was he who moved, pulled Kenzo closer, deeper, until he began thrusting. Long powerful thrusts bordering on painful without going there. 

It took some time. Aki was only half-hard at first and Kenzo was too worked up in all the wrong ways to find release. But they found a rhythm and slowly learned to work together. It was not lovemaking, far from it, but through the roughness it became good. Aki pushed the bad pain aside and focused on the pleasured until he couldn’t help but claw at Kenzo’s biceps as he came.

Kenzo watched him come and it was a beautiful sight, just like it had been in his mind so many times before. He had wanted Aki for years but they had been friends and he’d never dared to ask for more. Then things had spiralled out of control and gotten fucked up and he’d been certain he would never find himself between the bassist’s legs like this. But he was, against all logic and reason he was watching Aki come at his doing, head tipped back and muscles clenching down around Kenzo’s length. 

Aki came down from his high and realised that Kenzo had stopped moving. He looked up at the drummer and saw an almost disbelieving look in his black eyes. It even hurt to uncurl his fingers from the death grip they’d had on Kenzo’s biceps, no doubt leaving little crescent marks behind. He tried to sooth them by rubbing his hands over the skin. 

“Come for me, Zo…”

He said it so softly, almost lovingly. Kenzo started moving again, still hard and forceful during the last moments before he stilled and spilled himself deep inside Aki’s body. He collapsed on top of the older and fought desperately to keep the ache in his chest from spilling out of his eyes. 

They remained entangled on top of the bed. Aki dared to wrap his arms around Kenzo’s small frame and he was not rejected. He was hurting all over but he knew that the drummer was worse off. His pain was physical whereas Kenzo was struggling with inner pain and demons. The trembles running through the small body told of inner struggles and somehow Aki knew Kenzo was trying not to cry. Kenzo had always hated crying. So he just held him, hoping he could offer enough comfort that way. 

“Help me…” 

The whisper was so low Aki wasn’t sure he’d heard it at all. In fact he felt it more than he heard it. Felt the drummer’s lips move against his neck and the breathed words ghosting across his skin. But it was the tone, the desperate attempt to not sound weak when both of them knew Kenzo was breaking, that really got to Aki. Tightening his hold he fought back his own tears. He needed to be strong now, for Kenzo. For both of them. 

“I will, I promise.” 

He had no idea how he would keep such a promise. Kenzo needed help, serious help. Breaking a drug addiction, a _cocaine addiction_ , was harder than breaking an alcohol one. At least he thought so. He’d gone through the latter on his own, not wanting to risk media exposure by getting help, and it’d been rough. Kenzo would not be alone; he would be there every step of the way if the drummer allowed it. But he didn’t know if they could do it on their own. All he knew was that they would try. Together.


End file.
